Frostroses
by TheJennyFromIceland
Summary: Having two lives spread over 300 years must bring a lot of memories. And even if he remembers them or not, they're always there. Here are some short stories that happened before and after he became Jack Frost :)
1. Homework

When Jamie had first asked Jack to help him, this was certainly not what he thought he would be doing. Jack had actually just planned on a quick stop at Jamie's house to put a fresh coat of frost on the boy's window and to check to see if he was asleep yet. But, of course, he wasn't. The boy had immediately opened up the window, kind of like he knew that Jack would by stopping by that night, grabbed the spirit's ice cold hand and dragged him inside. Jack had given a little surprised yell when he was pulled into the warm bedroom and fell onto the hard floor. And then the child had, well, started begging for his help. And that was something that Jack Frost was really good at doing; helping kids. But in this case, he was _not _the right person for the job. And there they were, in Jamie's bedroom, and the child was staring up at him with begging eyes.

"Please, Jack? Please?" Jamie asked, his adorable brown eyes open wide, looking at the winter spirit.

"Can't you just ask your parents?" The Guardian asked and glanced at the book in the child's hands.

But Jamie shook his head. "No, my dad is at some business trip and mom's in a really bad mood because something came up between her and a friend of hers or something."

Jack eyed the book with a look of disgust on his face. "What about your sister?"

"She's younger than me. She doesn't know this stuff." Jamie put on his begging face again. "Please, please, please?"

"Your teacher maybe?" Jack looked back up at the boy hopefully. "Isn't that his _job_, anyway? Can't he help you?"

"No, _she_ can't. This is due tomorrow and I am supposed to do this by myself." Answered Jamie. "But I can't do it. It's too hard and I don't understand it. I need the help of a Guardian."

Jack Frost sighed, leaned the staff against a wall and sat down next to him on the bed. With his cold hands he picked up the book and ran his eyes across the page in the book. He hesitated, then asked: "What subject is this?"

"Biology."

"Biology?" Jack asked, his eyes widening.

Jamie paused. "Yeah." Then he smiled. "Do you even know what biology is?"

"Of course." Jack lied quickly and laughed. "What do you think I am?"

"At least not human." Jamie murmured as he reached for his school bag. From it he picked up a green notebook and handed it to the spirit.

"I used to be." Jack commented. He opened up the book and stared at all of the long, complicated words. He swallowed, looked up at the boy who was sitting on the bed next to him and smiled. "What exactly do you not understand?"

"Well, mostly cellular respiration and photosynthesis. Also, there are some organelles in plant and animal cells that just don't make sense to me. Mostly the gorgi apparatus and vacuoles. I also don't know the difference between smooth and rough ER."

Surprisingly, Jack had managed to keep a straight face during Jamie's little speech. And because he didn't understand a _word _of what Jamie just said, he simply just smiled and nodded. That always seemed to work. "Alright, then."

With his cold fingers he placed the open notebook back on the bed and picked up the textbook. "Do you think it would help you if I just read outloud from the book?"

Jamie raised one eyebrow. "Why do you think that would help me?"

Jack shrugged. "It used to help my little sister when I was helping her with her homework."

"You had a sister?" Asked the brown-haired boy and sat up straighter.

"That's not important at the moment, kiddo. What's important is that you start working on your homework. It's already..." He turned his head toward the little clock that was sitting on Jamie's nightstand. "Getting close to midnight. And you need to go to sleep."

"Well, I can't go to sleep until finish my homework."

"That's what I said." Jack quickly stood up from the bed and grabbed his staff. "Or we can just freeze the book and then the problem would be solved. If your teacher asks, just tell her that I did it." He grinned. "She'll never believe you anyway."

"You are _not _freezing my book." Said Jamie as he grabbed his book and hugged it close to his chest. "I'll get in trouble."

"I know, I know. Okay, let's figure this thing out." He paused and looked at the boy. "What is your homework exactly?"

The boy quickly grabbed his school bag again and his small fingers went through what was in it, until he pulled out a white sheet of paper. "This worksheet."

"Let me see." Jack said and took the worksheet from Jamie's hands. His eyes widened again as they scanned over the questions on the paper, and frost started spreading from his fingers, onto the worksheet.

"Jack!" Jamie yelled and tore the sheet away from him. But it was already completely covered in a thin layer of ice. Clearly mad at the winter spirit, he ran out of the room, heading for the bathroom, and as soon as he ran into the room, he picked up his mom's hairdryer and put it on full power. He watched as the ice slowly started melting and a few, clear waterdrops started falling with a little splashing sound onto the white sink. Jack appeared in the doorway, watching as the water that had once been ice, soaked the paper when it melted and smudged the black, printed letters that were on there until they had become a few, dark gray lines.

Jamie turned his head towards the doorway with an angry look on his face. "Look what you did! How am I supposed to turn in my homework tomorrow if I don't even know what the questions are?"

The winter spirit lifted up one index finger and opened his mouth slightly and looked like he was going to say something to the boy, but then quickly turned around with the staff in his hand and flew away. Jamie ran after him and into his bedroom, where he had seen Jack's feet disappear into, but no one was there. There was, however, fresh frost covering the window. Jamie noticed almost right away that someone had written something in the decorative frost in a handwriting that he had never seen before;

_Just tell her that Jack Frost did it. I'll be expecting a snowball fight later to settle this. _

* * *

_**Well, people, that's the first story in this... story. I'm sorry if this is badly written, I didn't have a lot of time to work on this and this is probably bad. Anyway, I'm open for suggestions if you have any for this oneshot-story-thing. I've never done this before so I thought, "Hey! Why not just make a Jack Frost oneshot story? People love that. I love that. Yay!" **_

_**And that's how this all started. True story.**_

_**Anyway, I'm rambling. Review and favorite if you like it! ^^ I'll very likely write the next chapter tonight!**_


	2. Always There

He was always there.

His beautiful brown eyes always had that curious and interested look to them as they stared into the window at the black board, that was hanging on the wall in the classroom. Suzanne Saledhill, who had begun teaching the children of Burgess five years earlier, had very soon in her career seen the boy appear outside the window, staring into the classroom every day. He never, ever seemed to even think about skipping a schoolday. Sometimes, he even looked like he was sick while it was still snowing outside, but he always showed up.

When Suzanne had first noticed him, the first thing she saw were the old and terrible clothing that he wore. The boy had to come from a poor family, a family that wasn't able to pay for him to go to school. So, because Suzanne had a very kind heart, she started writing even more than she had done before on the black board, since she knew that he could only see into the classroom, not hear anything that she said.

Another thing that she noticed about the boy was that whenever somebody looked at him, he seemed to look to the ground or just simply somewhere else, like he was ashamed of standing there. And these five years passed, and even though all of the children knew that he was there, no one ever said anything. At least, not until one afternoon when a blizzard was raging outside. The storm was so terrible, that no one in their right mind should have been outside, but - of course - if you looked out the window, you could see the brown-haired boy standing there, ignoring the blizzard.

Annie, a girl in the class, then raised up her hand.

"Yes, Annie?" Suzanne asked.

"Why can't the boy come in? Why is he always outside?" The girl lowered her hand and everyones heads turned to the window. As always, the boy looked away when he saw that someone was looking at him.

"I don't quite know, dear Annie. Perhaps he comes from a poor origin, and simply cannot afford to go inside."

"But that is ridiculous." The girl then said. "He is obviously sick, and just look at his clothes! He can't stay outside in this weather. Miss Saledhill, please invite him in."

"I am not sure if I can. There are rules, you know."

Then the whole class started protesting, asking her to invite the boy inside. And after Suzanne had finally managed to quiet the class down, she agreed to go and get the boy. But, of course, not until the class had promised to be on their best behavior.

She walked out of the classroom and closed the door to it behind her, so that she was standing in the hallway of the little school. She then moved toward the main entrance. The old wooden door creaked as she pushed it open. Suzanne stuck her head out of the little gap she had made, careful not to make her hair wet, and called to the boy. "Darling, come inside!"

The boy simply stared at her, like he wasn't sure if it was really him that she was talking to.

"Boy, please hurry up inside. The storm is messing up my hair." Suzanne then complained and the boy nodded. Then, he ran toward the door and Suzanne moved out of the way so that he could get in the warm building. After brushing off some of the snow that had gotten stuck on the boy's brown cloak, he looked up at the teacher.

"Thank you for letting me in." He said and bowed. Suzanne's heart skipped a beat. This was the first time that she had ever heard him speak. She had only seen him, never heard anything that he said - if he ever did say anything while standing outside of that window. And even though the boy was poor and sick, he still showed the teacher manners and respect. She smiled.

"You are most welcome. Now tell me, boy, what is your name?"

"Jackson Overland Frost, madame." The boy answered. Now, that name sounded awfully familiar to Suzanne.

"And what name do you go by?"

"Jack. Jack Frost." Responded the boy and her smile grew warmer.

"So you really do exist." She muttered and the boy tilted his head slightly.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh! You see, I have two children. Heather and Matthew. They've talked a lot about you, and since I thought that I knew everyone in the village and I didn't know any 'Jack Frost', I assumed that you were... well, imaginary." Suzanne quickly explained. But the boy didn't seem to take it very personally. In fact, he grinned.

"You're Suzanne? Heather and Matthew's mother?" He simply asked and she nodded.

"Yes, I am. Now, I have a question for you, if you don't mind me asking."

Jack nodded. "You can ask me."

The teacher hesitated a little bit before she finally opened her mouth and asked the question, hoping to get the answer that she had longed for, for so long. "I've seen you standing outside of that window very often. Actually, the whole class knows about you. What makes you want to go, and look inside the window?" Okay, so her question did not sound _at all _as professional as it had sounded in her head, but it got to the point so she was happy with it. The boy looked down at his toes before answering.

"Well, I just... my family doesn't have a lot of money. They can't pay for me to go to school. So I thought... that I would go to school anyway, even though it's not exactly... going to school. I just..." He paused and looked back up, his eyes looking through his dark brown bangs. "I just want to be a little bit educated. But I am sorry if I have caused your teaching methods any problems or distractions, or just, anything at all. I know that I shouldn't have done this and I truly am sorry. I can... I can go, if I am in your way."

"No, not at all, dear child!" Suzanne exclaimed. "Listen to me. The children that are in my class usually always try everything that they possibly can to get sick, just so that they can skip school. I've seen them leaving their coats on purpose at home, going out for a walk in the snow without any shoe-" She glanced at the boys feet who were bare and wet from the melted snow. But the boy only smiled. "Yes?"

"Oh, I am so sorry, Jack. I didn't mean to..."

"Don't worry, Miss Saledhill. It's fine, really." The boy answered before she could even finish her sentence. "You were saying?"

"I was just saying that you should be an inspiration to all of the kids in my class. They try everything that they can to get out of school, just because of their flaw of laziness. But you, you are always there. I have never seen you miss a day of school." She stopped and stared at him with a curious look on her face. She had gotten an idea. "Tell me, can you read?"

"Yes, I can." Answered Jack, nodding.

"Can you write?"

The boy scratched the back of his head, awkwardly. "Well, I don't really know. I mean, I've never tried to. I guess I could. I've seen you write enough on the black board to know _how _to write..."

Suzanne smiled. "Would you like to join the class?"

She saw Jack's eyes widen at her words. "Join... join the class? What do you mean? I don't have the money to-"

"You don't have to pay." Suzanne interupted, holding up her hand.

"I don't... have to pay?" The boy repeated, his eyes only widening even more.

"I will teach you for free, and if the school district will require any payment, I will be happy to pay for your education."

"Miss Saledhill, why are you being so nice to me? You don't even know me." Jack asked her.

"Well, I would think that I do. My children have told me enough stories about you so that I can understand your character." The teacher answered, staring into the boy's eyes.

But he shook his head. "I'm sorry, I can't accept that. I appreciate your offer, but I have been raised to-"

"No, please Jack. I _want _to teach you. I really do. I have never seen a teenager like you so eager to learn, so passionate for getting an education. As for the payment, just thank of it as a 'thank you' for taking care of my children so often for me. You really made them happy, and I would like to give you something in return. Just tell me, Jack. Would you like to join the class?"

The boy smiled widely. "I would love to, Miss Saledhill."

"Well, then." Suzanne said. "I have stayed long enough away from the class and I have to continue teaching the children." She made him a signal with her finger as she walked toward the thin door that lead to the classroom. "Come with me."

He really couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. He had never actually been _inside _of the classroom before. But his bare feet slowly carried him into the classroom, where Suzanne Saledhill proudly announced to the class; "This is Jack Frost. He will be joining our class. Please make him feel welcome."

And so, Jack Frost joined the class in the end of October. He made a few friends, actually, and really felt happy there. And he came to school everyday, was the first one to arrive and the last one to leave - except for the teacher, of course.

It wasn't until one day, on the last day before the school would go on their Christmas vacation, that Suzanne noticed that Jack's seat was empty. Her mind became worried about her favorite student, wondering where he could possibly be. Maybe he was sick. It wouldn't come as much of a surprise to her, considering Jack's old and thin clothes and his bare feet. But really, he had come to school before when he had had a fever.

Around noon that same day, while in the middle of teaching the class more about world history, Suzanne Saledhill heard a small knock. She didn't have to go open the door, because the visitor who had knocked opened it himself. It was a police officer.

"Officer. What seems to be the problem?" Suzanne asked professionally, and saw the excited look on the children's faces at the corner of her eye. It really wasn't every day that they saw a police officer.

"Ma'am, do you have a fifteen year old student enrolled in this class, named Jackson Overland Frost?" The man asked her, his face showing pure sadness.

Suzanne nodded. "Why, yes I do. But I am sorry, he is not present at the moment." Again, for probably the millioneth time, she glanced at his empty seat. "In fact, I do not have a clue why he is not."

"I am not here to talk to Mr. Frost, ma'am, I am here to talk to you about him." The police officer said, and paused for a moment.

_Oh, dear. _Suzanne thought. _What problem has he gotten himself into?_

"Mr. Frost died yesterday."

Suzanne's heart almost stopped beating and her eyes immedetily watered up. "I beg your pardon?"

"Frost was found dead yesterday, ma'am."

"He's... he's dead?"

"Yes. I am sorry."

She looked down at the ground. "How... how did he.. die?" She heard her voice crack in the middle of the sentence and could already hear some sniffling in the classroom.

"He fell through the ice in the lake that is about a half a mile south from the town. He actually..." The police officer hesitated. "He actually gave away his life to safe his little sister. The boy was a true hero."

Later, the nameless river got it's permanent name; Jackson River.

And even as the months passed slowly, when the winter started melting away and the bright green grass started showing up, Suzanne was always certain of one thing.

He was always there.

* * *

**I am sorry if I got any information in this chapter wrong. I tried my best to keep it realistic, even if I'm not really sure if they actually _had _police officers in 1700-something. At least, in this story they did.**

**Okay, I know that Jack does not exactly seem like the school type, but this idea of a story has just been bugging me for _days _and is now finally leaving me alone after I wrote it. **

**I just feel like there aren't a lot of FanFics about it when people that knew Jack Frost in his human life find out about his death. And even though they are really sad, I still have to write a few of them. **

**Review and favorite, if you have the time ;) **


	3. Christmas Tree

The light snowflakes fell down slowly like feathers from the white clouds in the sky and fell onto the already light colored ground without a sound. The only thing that could be heard - apart from the soft wind - in the whole forest were the footsteps of a teenager and four young children, when their feet sunk into the cold snow and came back up as they walked.

"Jack!" One of them, Olivia, complained. "I'm cold."

"Cold?" The teenager asked and glanced at her furry coat. "It's not that cold outside, little olive."

The girl crossed her arms. "What do we have to get a Christmas tree for, anyway? It's not Christmas until after..." She started counting on her fingers, one at a time, for a little while until she continued. "Eight days! Why couldn't we wait a little while?"

"Aren't you exited, olive? We'll get to be the ones who choose the tree, and then we'll cut it down and take it home. And then, after that, we get to decorate it. This is supposed to be _fun!_" Jack then said, shouting out the last word into the cold, empty forest.

"Do you think about anything else than having fun?" Heather Saledhill, the daughter of the town's teacher, asked the teenager.

"Well, without fun there is no fun." He answered simply, running his fingers through his dark-brown hair.

His little sister, Pippa, giggled. "Jack, you're such a poet."

The boy grinned. "I know." Then he pointed to a tree not far away. "How about that one?"

"No, it's ugly." Heather's younger brother, Matthew, said in a whiny voice. "It's all covered in that white, gross stuff."

"Gross? Snow isn't gross, Matthew. It's wonderful." Jack said in a voice that sounded like he was insulted. He stopped, bent down to pick up a handfull of snow, made it into a ball and threw it at the nearest tree branch. When the white snowball hit it, all of the snow that had already been on the branch came falling down onto the ground. "Not to mention that it's fun." Jack winked at Pippa.

"No, it's bad! Mommy says so!" Matthew, who was only six years old, called at Jack as they started walking again. "It's cold and it makes you sick and it's ugly and annoying and cold and white and cold..."

"Jack! Tell us a story!" Heather interrupted her little brother.

Jack smirked. "Alright. What do you want the story to be about?"

"Santa Claus!" Matthew yelled as loud as he could. "Because Santa Claus is coming tonight!"

"No, he's not. Mom said that he won't come until Christmas Eve." Heather protested, staring at her brother with a look like he was an idiot. But Jack just laughed.

"Your mom is right, kiddos. Not until Christmas Eve, the night when magic is flying around in the air. Then, Santa Claus will take his huge sack of present, put it on his sleigh and give a gift to every single child that believes in him. But only the nice kids. If you're naughty, you won't get anything but coals." Jack told the kids, kicking a little clump of snow that was laying on the ground and watched it split in two.

"I have never gotten coals, Jack!" Matthew announced proudly. "And once, I even got a little wooden horse! That was last year, I think. And then, I also got a bag of candy and a book - two books! I also got a little kitten! I really got a kitten, Jack! His name is Petunia!"

Jack could barely hold down his laughter. "Petunia? What kind of a name for a cat is that? I thought the cat was a boy."

"It _is _a boy! And it's not a cat, it's a _kitten _and his name is Petunia!"

"His name isn't Petunia. It's Furball." Heather corrected her brother.

"No! I like Petunia! I want his name to be Petunia!"

And then, the Saledhill siblings started arguing. The others - Jack, Pippa and Olivia - simply just ignored them. Heather and Matthew were always arguing, and whenever someone got them to stop, they always started again. Jack knew that interrupting them would only be pointless, so he kept quiet.

Suddenly he felt a familiar warm hand slip into his. He looked down to see Pippa walking next to him, and she had a very sad look on her face.

"What's wrong, kiddo?" Jack asked his sister. And then, he heard her say the words that he had always wished that he would never hear her say.

"I don't believe in Santa Claus. Not anymore."

His feet stopped moving, and all of the kids were quiet. Jack Frost stared at his little sister's face, which was now red with embarrassment. He bent down, so he was at her eye level.

"Why not?"

Pippa hesitated before she gave him an honest answer. "Because I saw you putting my present under the tree last year. I couldn't sleep and..." Her eyes started filling up with tears. "And I was going to go see if Santa had already been to our house and then... I saw you putting my doll there. And that was the only present that I got for Christmas, and that means that Santa Claus never came. And I still believed and I was a good girl all year."

Pippa started sniffing and the first tear ran down her cheek. Jack quickly pulled his sister into a hug. "Hey, hey, hey." He said soothingly to her.

"And then I started thinking." She continued, her voice breaking a few times. She sucked up air through her nose and another tear followed. "Why do all of the rich kids get so many and good presents, and we don't? It only makes sense that the parents are the ones that give the presents. And that's why the rich kids get the better presents. It's because they can afford them and we can't."

"No Pippa, no." Jack hugged his sister tighter as she started crying harder. "The presents that we get are so much better than the ones that the rich kids get."

"How are they better, Jack? We don't get _anything_." Pippa asked, burying her face in Jack's shoulder.

"Just because that we can't _see _the gifts, it doesn't mean that they're not there. Seeing isn't always believing, you know. And our gifts are the best gifts of all." Jack told the crying girl, and glanced up at the other kids that were standing awkwardly a few feet away, watching everything that was going on between the two siblings. Jack stroked over his sister's brown hair with his hand that was now cold because of the freezing temperature outside. "We get the gifts of joy, laughter, love, smiles and a wonderful family. That is, in my opinion, a lot better than getting toys. They get broken with time. But you can never break your laugther, or the feeling of joy. They're always there, no matter what."

His sister looked up at him with her big brown eyes and Jack tucked a little lock of hair that was in her face behind her ear. She smiled lightly at him and the last tear escaped her eye. Pippa nodded.

"You're right." She whispered to him.

"I'm always right." He commented and returned her smiled. His eyes flickered to something that was behind his sister and his smile grew brighter. "I think I found our Christmas tree."

* * *

**I guess there's a lesson to this one-shot. To, like, be grateful for what you have, and... stuff... I also just wanted to write a little story about Jack with some other kids from the town.**

**I honestly don't know why I decided to write this exact story. It just came to me and I thought that you guys might enjoy it, which I hope that you do.**

**A shout-out to the awesome Read-Write-Love1812! Who asked me to write more little stories about Jack before he became immortal, and for giving me the idea for the next chapter! Thank you!**

**Also, I want to thank you guys that have reviewed, favorited, followed or simply just read the story! You're all awesome!**

**And, like always, review and favorite if you have the time ;) I always love reading the reviews that I get from you guys!**


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